


Goods and Services

by Anonymous



Category: Soul Calibur
Genre: Bribery, Gangbang, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 15:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Vercci knows what he wants. Voldo knows how to help him get it.





	Goods and Services

Over the years, Voldo had mastered the art of standing completely still and impassive behind Vercci’s desk chair while his master met with clients. It worked well as an intimidation tactic; most people were reluctant to approach Vercci too closely when they were uncertain of how his silent, unmoving guard dog would react.

This quirk, along with the numerous other oddities of Voldo’s unique skillset, fed the hungry gossip mill of high society. Once, noble men and women had scoffed at the audacity Vercci displayed by allowing Voldo to accompany him in his day-to-day affairs; back then, every last one of them had assumed Voldo was nothing more than the merchant’s whore.

That notion had been dented, slightly, by the incident that ended with Voldo slitting the throats of two would-be thieves in the middle of a crowded ballroom. Most people weren’t so quick to dismiss the pretty boy at Vercci’s side after that.

Now, the rumors had taken on a more sinister, fearful tone. The current consensus, as far as Voldo could tell, was that he wasn’t in fact human. Voldo’s personal favorite variation on the tale was the theory that he was some sort of golem or cursed doll, brought back from Vercci’s travels and trained to carry out its master’s whims. Vercci had gotten a good laugh out of that one.

They were right about one thing: Voldo was well-trained. Very well-trained. But he was still human, and pesky human nervousness currently had him clenching and unclenching his fists behind his back as Vercci negotiated with a group of three men.

These men had been a thorn in Vercci’s side for the better part of a month. A trio of ‘single gentlemen’ who lived, worked, and did everything together, they had access to several underground market venues that Vercci was determined to get his hands on. Unfortunately, they drove a much harder bargain than Vercci was used to. Having met his match in stubbornness, Vercci had confided in Voldo that he was at a loss. There had to be something he could use to gain the upper hand in their dealings.

In turn, Voldo had confided something of his own. He’d known what the outcome would be when he communicated such tantalizing information to his master. He had no right to be anxious, waiting for Vercci to pull back the curtain on their plan, but here he was. He gripped his hands together to still them and focused on the faces of their guests as Vercci turned their fruitless small talk to more relevant matters.

“Let us be frank with each other.” Vercci set down the glass of wine he’d been pretending to take long sips from. He preferred to be at full sobriety when dealing with difficult clients. “We both want something from each other. I am content to accept what you are offering me, but as I understand it, you aren’t satisfied with anything I’ve offered in return.”

“Your understanding is correct,” the man sitting closest to Voldo said. Alessandro, his name was. Tall. Dark-haired. Looked like he’d never done a day of heavy labor in his life. Alessandro was the most talkative of the trio - a natural-born socialite. He had a winning smile that would have looked genuine to anyone who didn’t know he made a living by unscrupulous means. He directed that smile towards Voldo just as he did to Voldo’s master, which came as a shock the first time it happened. Voldo was used to being dismissed, first out of disdain, then fear.

“You’re a smart man, Vercci. Don’t play dumb. You can afford to give us a whole lot more than you’re hoping to part with. We won’t deal in scraps.” That was Michele. The oldest of the three, he cut a striking figure with silver hair and a nose that was permanently disfigured by some injury or brawl in his youth. Where Alessandro charmed and flattered their host, Michele cut in with ultimatums and criticisms, determined to spin the deal to their advantage. He paid no attention to Voldo when Vercci was present, but outside the meeting room, his behavior was a fair bit more scandalous.

Directly across from Vercci, the third man nodded in silent agreement. Dimitri was shorter and bulkier than his partners. He didn’t speak up often, but when he did, his thick accent gave away that he was native to somewhere far outside Naples. Where Michele was sharp with his words, Dimitri was sharp with his eyes. More than once during their long meetings, Voldo had found himself being stared down by the man. Perhaps searching for a weakness, waiting to see Voldo let his guard down for an instant. Perhaps just admiring the view. Perhaps both.

Vercci pretended to consider their words. “I understand. I apologize if I’ve given you the impression that the handsome monetary and material compensation I’m willing to bestow upon you is nothing but scraps.” An edge crept into Vercci’s voice. It was the one that meant ‘don’t push my patience further.’ It made Dimitri flinch, the movement imperceptible to someone less observant than Voldo. Meanwhile, the casual display of power in his master’s tone was enough to send a pleasant shiver down Voldo’s spine.

Vercci leaned forward in his chair, inviting his guests to share a secret. “Before you discard our deal, allow me to add one more item to my offerings.”

With an open palm, he gestured to Voldo.

The men were taken off guard. They glanced at each other, searching for answers that none of the three could give in the small moment of silence before Alessandro picked up their end of the conversation. “We already have plenty of servants,” Alessandro said, a drop of uncertainty tainting his ever-confident tone. “We have no need of another.”

Vercci echoed Michele’s earlier words. “You’re a smart man. You know that is not what I’m offering.”

“There are plenty of misconceptions about my favorite servant,” Vercci continued. Joy swelled in Voldo’s stomach at being so openly referred to as his master’s favorite. “Many assume that because Voldo does not speak, he does not hear. In fact, Voldo has remarkably sharp ears - and he’s overheard some of the fascinating conversations you gentlemen have held about him.”

The three guests shifted in their seats, their faces displaying the deliberate passivity one put on when they were trying to conceal some other emotion. No doubt they were surprised to be brought up on charges for idle talk about a mere servant.

_”God, he’s a pretty young thing, isn’t he? To hear people talk, you’d think him something grotesque.”_

_Laughter, bold and open, from down the hall. “Admire from a distance. I’m half certain he’ll slice your arm off if you touch the merchandise.”_

_“Lord, but it would be worth it to feel a handful of that hair.”_

_“Or that backside.”_

_“Don’t make me write that on your graves, dears. ‘Here lies two idiots who died trying to feel up the Merchant of Death’s prized pet.’”_

_“Don’t tempt us.”_

That had been during the first week of their visits, when Voldo wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop. After that, he’d started listening. Apparently the temptation had grown too strong for Michele. Only a few days before the meeting they held now, Voldo had been making his way through the back stairwells, carrying a tray of glasses as a favor to the overwhelmed kitchen staff. Michele had “accidentally” run into him, requiring some quick reflexes on Voldo’s part to keep from decorating the stairs with shattered glass.

“Oh, my apologies,” Michele said, a highly unapologetic smile on his face. “Voldo, was it? You know, you don’t look so scary like this, when you’re not chained to your master’s side.”

Voldo played dumb, staring at him blankly and refusing to acknowledge the statement. It worked well on most people, either because they were ignorant enough to believe Voldo genuinely couldn’t understand them, or because they were self-aware enough to get the hint.

It didn’t work on this one. “As strong and silent as everyone says, I see. I like that.” He grabbed Voldo’s arm, his fingers heavy and warm through Voldo’s sleeve. “Please, don’t be afraid to pay me and my friends a social visit one of these days. You must be awfully lonely. It’s cruel of Vercci to keep you all to himself.”

Voldo had to be careful, in times like these. Vercci was decidedly not fond of anyone but him touching his possessions. At the same time, Voldo couldn’t risk offending a client and burning an important bridge for his master. In the end, Voldo settled on a cocked head and a vaguely interested look, followed by a small nod of acknowledgment. Then he shook Michele’s arm off and headed straight for the kitchen, mercifully uninterrupted for the rest of his trip.

Now, Voldo could turn their lust to his master’s advantage.

“You must understand, I do not offer Voldo’s services lightly,” Vercci explained. “As stingy as you’ve accused me of being with my inanimate goods, I am twofold when it comes to him.”

“I can believe it,” Alessandro said, having recovered his cheery composure. “Would you care to share the details of what, exactly, is on offer from the young man?”

“You will have one hour to do whatever you like to him.”

The room was quiet enough after that announcement for Dimitri’s heavy swallow to be audible to everyone.

“Voldo’s capable of taking quite a bit of punishment, in all respects. However, I would advise you not to attempt to kill or maim him - I cannot be held responsible for how he will respond to that.” Vercci smiled. “And, of course, I will be overseeing the process.”

Alessandro’s budding grin dampened at that last caveat. “Now, Vercci, I’m not sure-”

“I will be overseeing the process,” Vercci repeated. “Unless you would rather have no taste of him at all.”

The three men looked at each other. Shrugs and nods were shared. Alessandro stood from his seat and walked to Vercci, holding out a delicate hand encased in a white glove. “You have a deal.”

Vercci shook his hand, then nodded to Voldo to step forward. Vercci brushed a hand along Voldo’s hip as he passed by.

“Show them what you can do,” was his only order.

The first thing Voldo did was take the blades at his hips from their holsters and set them beside Vercci on his desk. It was a show of goodwill and trust. Should things go severely south, Voldo had no doubt he could take any of their guests out with his bare hands.

Then, refusing to let himself hesitate, Voldo went to his knees. The men were sitting in a semicircular formation, their chairs not far from one another. Even if he focused on servicing one man at a time, he’d be within easy reach of the others.

Dimitri extended a hand towards him. Voldo rewarded the initiative, settling himself between the man’s legs and giving him an inviting smile before nuzzling, boldly, against his clothed crotch.

“Damn,” he murmured.

Voldo was in no rush to disrobe his guest. He mouthed at Dimitri’s soft cock through the thin fabric of his expensive trousers, his mouth warm and moist. Dimitri was the one who’d made the comment about feeling Voldo’s hair, and he took full advantage of having free access to it now. What started as gentle strokes through the soft blond strands became a demanding tug as he’d had enough of Voldo’s teasing.

Voldo gave a soft huff of understanding. Skilled hands made quick work of removing just enough of Dimitri’s clothing to get to what he needed. The man’s cock was half-hard already. Voldo wasted no time in getting to work, his lips and tongue dragging low, pleased moans out of the man above him.

When Voldo took a breath and swallowed the entire length of his cock, Dimitri muttered, “Good boy.” Voldo would have smiled, had his mouth not been otherwise occupied. When Vercci said that to Voldo, it was for a job truly well done. Vercci’s praise meant something. It was clear as day that Dimitri was only going through the motions of dirty talk.

All in all, it was not the worst blowjob Voldo had ever given. Dimitri was far less demanding than Vercci, content to sit back and let Voldo pleasure him. Voldo could do that just fine, so long as he reminded himself that this was all in service of his master.

Dimitri gave no verbal warning when he was about to come, but the tensed fingers buried in Voldo’s hair and the stuttering motion of his hips was enough. A broad hand grasped the back of Voldo’s neck, stilling him, but Voldo didn’t need the instruction. He kept his mouth obediently open, doing little more than flinching as Dimitri came, hard, down his throat.

Before Voldo could finish swallowing the bitterness, he found himself being yanked to his feet by a hand on the back of his collar. A fearful instinct swept through him twice over in an instant: First, the thought that he was being assailed, and needed to fight back, needed to defend himself and his master. Then - even more frightful - the thought that he’d displeased Vercci somehow, and his master was furious with him.

Both thoughts were quickly dispelled when he turned around to see that Alessandro was the one currently manhandling him. Impatient for his turn, Voldo supposed.

Voldo didn’t expect to be swept into a kiss.

His breath hitched. Vercci showed his fondness in many ways, but he didn’t kiss Voldo. Not on the lips. That would be going too far, breaking the fragile social wall that stood between master and servant. Voldo was already beginning to suspect that was falling deeply, hopelessly in love with his master, but he held no illusions that their relationship could ever be that of a loving couple - the kind that shared kisses.

Alessandro had no such misgivings. His tongue delved into Voldo’s mouth, passionate and possessive, eagerly tasting his own partner’s seed. Voldo groaned and went pliant in his grip, letting him take what he wanted.

“So he _can_ speak,” Michele commented, watching the display from his chair.

“He can make some sounds, when he wants to,” Vercci said. “No words.”

Michele clicked his tongue. “A shame.”

Voldo couldn’t see Vercci, but he knew he was smiling from the cutting tone in his voice. “I, for one, enjoy a man who knows how to hold his tongue.”

Michele let out a _hmph_ at the jab.

Alessandro paid no mind to the bickering around them. He was busy disrobing Voldo, gloved fingers tugging at clasps and ties that took as long to undo as they did to assemble. Voldo helped him, gently and efficiently prying off the elegant clothing that Vercci had bought specifically for him. The Merchant of Death’s most unique treasure had to look his best, after all.

Voldo was facing away from both Dimitri and Michele, and he had no idea who the gasp came from. It came in response to Voldo baring his back - and all the scars that had become a part of it. Voldo tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, daring either of them to comment on it. Neither did, but Michele was staring at him with renewed interest. The older man made a _go on_ gesture to his partner.

After one more bruising kiss, Voldo found himself on Alessandro’s lap, straddling his thighs. A wordless exchange occurred somewhere behind them, followed by the clanking shuffle of a drawer opening. A hand - Dimitri’s - pressed a small bottle into Alessandro’s palm.

“Do you need me to...” Alessandro said, which Voldo translated as 'I don’t want to.' Voldo plucked the bottle from his grasp and set to preparing himself.

It was easy. He’d done this before. In this exact position, too - knees dipping the fabric of an oversized chair, his chest pressed against Vercci’s so his master could feel his rapid heartbeat, his head beside Vercci’s so his master could hear his uneven breaths. It should have been even easier, to do it with a stranger Voldo had no attachment to. But he knew Vercci was watching him. This, Voldo reminded himself, was business, not pleasure. Vercci wasn’t expecting a show; he was expecting a job well done.

Alessandro, it seemed, was far less patient in bed than he was around the meeting table. Before Voldo had fully prepared himself, he felt thick, warm flesh pressing insistently against his fingers. Voldo didn’t allow his face to show any of the irritation he felt. He withdrew his fingers from his body and used them to stroke and tug at his guest’s cock, slicking it for his own comfort as much as he was teasing it for Alessandro’s enjoyment.

So far, Michele had been passive in this little game. Were Voldo less attentive, he would have forgotten the man was even there. He’d gone silent once Voldo began riding his companion, presumably enjoying the view. Then, among the obscene noises of slick flesh sliding together and stilted, hot breaths, the sound of a shifting chair cushion and a small brush of air against the back of his neck gave Voldo the smallest warning before a hand buried itself in his hair and yanked his head back.

Michele smiled down at him. “Having fun?”

Voldo gave him a short, raspy grunt in response.

“Yeah,” Michele agreed. “I can see that.” His thumb brushed along Voldo’s cheekbone, where Voldo was sure a blush had spread. It was a humiliating habit of his fair skin, but nothing he could control. Vercci, luckily, found it endearing. (“It makes you look...innocent. Which makes me want to do sinful things to you.”)

Michele angled Voldo's head to one side, straining his neck further. Voldo was far more flexible than most men, but he still had bones in his body, and they could only move so far. But any thoughts of the neck pain he would suffer in the morning were chased away when Voldo’s eyes met his master’s.

Vercci was still seated, his back straight and his legs crossed casually. His face held the same impenetrable smile that could hide any number of emotions. But Voldo knew Vercci well enough to recognize the look in his eyes - the glint of curious satisfaction when Vercci found something interesting. It was the same look his master wore when gazing on a particularly fascinating weapon.

“Whore,” Michele whispered in Voldo’s ear. “Your master has eyes for you, and yet you go and spread your legs to a pack of strange men willing to pay.” He glanced down deliberately, and his tone grew even more smug. “And worse yet, you get off on it.”

Voldo squirmed in his grip. He tried not to let the words bother him. For his part, all this talk was clearly what got Michele off; Voldo could feel the evidence of it pressing against his back. It meant nothing. Voldo was doing this for Vercci. He was loyal. He’d never be anything but loyal.

The brief moment of losing himself in thought hadn’t gone unnoticed. Voldo’s movements had slowed practically to stillness, and Alessandro gripped his hips and expressed his impatience through a bit of manhandling. Letting out a small grunt of apology, Voldo returned his attention to the pressing task at hand.

Vercci folded his hands in his lap. “Getting distracted, Voldo? Shameful. I’ve trained you better than that.”

If Voldo’s face hadn’t been flushed before, it certainly was now. Thankfully, Michele chose that moment to release his grip on Voldo’s hair, so he could duck his head and take a moment to try and downplay the effect his master's words had on him.

It...didn’t quite work. Michele’s hand came to rest around Voldo’s neck instead, dry skin rasping against the intermittent lines of scar tissue. “Trained, hm?” he said, close enough for Voldo to both hear and feel his breath. “So, those who say you’re the merchant's dog aren’t being figurative. You guard him, you heel for him, you don’t bark, and you roll over and perform tricks for his guests’ entertainment. What a good boy.”

_Yes,_ Voldo thought, _and I’m damned proud of it._

The rest of the hour passed quickly. All three men took several turns fucking him in a variety of ways, though Voldo noted with amusement that - for all their talk - none of them were as adventurous as Vercci. All but Michele seemed hesitant to truly hurt him, and even Michele went no further than slapping him on the face and cutting off his air a few times. Perhaps, despite Vercci’s permissions, they still feared incurring his wrath.

Nobody paid any particular heed to Voldo’s physical pleasure, and that was fine with him. It made it easier to focus. Besides, he received all the satisfaction he needed from knowing that Vercci was right there, watching Voldo serve him. Because it was still Vercci who Voldo was serving. He may have been taking other men’s cocks, but they were only tools Voldo needed to use for a bit to get his master what he wanted.

And when their little meeting was over, their deal was done, and their guests had gone, it was Vercci who stroked the back of Voldo’s neck and echoed another set of words from earlier in the evening.

“What a good boy.”


End file.
